


Acceptable Risk

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, It's been a while, M/M, episode 176 spoilers, god it's weird writing a character who is not jon or martin again, rating is for swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25337839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 176!!!"She's right, you know."Jon leaned forward, frowning, and pitched his voice low enough that Basira wouldn't hear. "About what?""You are a bit of a know-it-all prick."
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 44
Kudos: 339





	Acceptable Risk

Basira was moving through the undergrowth near-silently, slipping through the forest like a shadow and leaving no trace of her passage behind. Martin could barely see her, straining his eyes to keep sight of the blue flash of her jacket against the green and brown of the trees and wincing at every crashing step of his own as he crushed branches and leaves under his feet trying to follow her. He could hear Jon a half-step behind him, no longer dragging his feet but still letting Martin take the lead in following their friend.

Neither of them had told him where they were going, yet, or what they planned to do when they got there.

He turned, slightly, just enough so that he could still see Basira while he hissed a furious whisper at Jon. "She's right, you know."

Jon leaned forward, frowning, and pitched his voice low enough that Basira wouldn't hear. "About what?"

"You are a bit of a know-it-all prick."

Jon paused, pursing his lips. "I probably deserve that."

"Yeah." They walked on a few more steps, silent but for the twigs snapping under their feet. Then: "Next time you're going to go putting my life on the line, I'd appreciate a bit of a heads-up!" He spat the words out, leaning into the hazy mix of anger and fear that had been swirling in his chest since he first realized they were being followed - and Jon hadn't told him.

"Martin!" Jon put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him to a stop and spinning him around so they could face each other. "I would  _ never  _ put your life in danger.  _ Never." _ His expression was fierce. "Trevor couldn't have hurt you if he'd tried."

"You sure about that?" Martin raised a hand to his neck, feeling out the point where the knife had pressed, cold and deadly. It hadn't broken skin, but he could still feel the phantom pressure of the blade against his throat. "Because that knife was  _ very  _ sharp."

Jon's eyes flicked down to follow his hand, and the corners of his mouth tightened. "I'm sorry," he said, softer. "I'd... I'd hoped he'd target me, leave you alone."

"You realize how that isn't better, right?" Martin waited a moment to see if Jon understood, then continued. "Seeing you get held at knifepoint? That's  _ just  _ as bad," he explained. "Maybe  _ worse." _

Jon blinked, looking shocked. "Oh."

"Just- just-" Martin laughed, the barest, teary huff of a breath. "I don't  _ like  _ being threatened, and I  _ hate  _ seeing you in danger, and I just- I-"

"I'm sorry," Jon said again, more forcefully than before, and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Martin and bury his face in his hair. "I didn't- I thought you'd be  _ more  _ frightened if you knew what was coming, and I- fear is dangerous, Martin, more dangerous than an old man with a knife, and this- this felt like less of a risk. To have it be- be sudden, and short, not- not drawn out."

Martin clutched him tightly, shaking. Adrenaline was still ricocheting around his system, and Jon was solid, and strong, and stable. "What the hell are you even talking about?" He breathed the words into Jon's shoulder, hands bunched tight in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the thundering of his own pulse echoed back at him from where Jon's chest was pressed tight against his.

He could feel Jon's frown against his scalp. "What do you mean?"

"'Fear is more dangerous than a knife,'" Martin repeated. "I don't know about you, Jon, but I've never gotten sliced open by  _ fear." _

Jon was silent for a moment. Martin could imagine the little furrow between his brows as he worked out where his explanation had fallen short.

"Being afraid makes you prey," he said eventually. "And prey can be hurt - can be _ killed. _ I thought I had made that clear."

Martin pulled back, just an inch, to give him an incredulous look. "No, you very much did not!"

"Oh," Jon said, and a guilty expression crept onto his face. "I, um. Sorry?"

"Oh my god." Martin let his head fall forward, forehead thunking against Jon's shoulder. "Ominous declarations that we'll be safe if we keep calm are  _ not  _ explanations, Jon!"

"I thought I'd been clear about it!" he protested. "I just- I didn't want to frighten you by telling you too much, I didn't want to- to put you in  _ danger  _ by scaring you! I can't- I promised to protect you, Martin," he said, voice dipping low and gentle. "And I'm going to do that, whatever it takes."

"I know you will, Jon," Martin said, "but you need to- you need to just tell me these things,  _ please. _ You're not going to-" He took a shaky breath, letting it out in a sigh before continuing, slower and more careful with his words. "I'm  _ always  _ afraid, Jon. For me and- and for you. You're not going to make me  _ more  _ afraid by telling me what's going on." He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "And you can't make this easier on me by keeping me in the dark. I can  _ handle  _ it, Jon." He pulled back from the hug, just enough to meet Jon's eyes. "I trust you, you know that. But you have to trust  _ me  _ to be able to follow the plan. Even when I don't like it. I can mask my fear if necessary, I can- I'm  _ willing  _ to be in danger, temporarily, but you need to trust me to keep calm when I am."

"I  _ do  _ trust you, Martin," Jon said quietly. "I just..."

Martin watched him for a moment, the way he bit his lip and the tightness around his eyes. "You're scared too, aren't you?" he said. "Behind all that bluster and snark."

"Terrified out of my fucking wits," Jon muttered, and leaned forward into Martin's arms again. "He had a  _ knife  _ to your _ throat." _

"Yeah, he did," Martin said, but any recrimination in the words was lost in how close he held Jon to him, and the way they both relaxed to hear the other's heartbeat.

"I'm sorry," Jon said after a moment, "for not explaining things ahead of time."

"And?" Martin prompted.

Jon huffed. "And I'll try to do better?"

"Good." Martin drew back just far enough to kiss him. "Know-it-all prick," he said fondly. "Sometimes the rest of us like to know what's going on too, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know," Jon said, rolling his eyes in gentle exasperation. "Am I forgiven?"

Martin smiled. "Maybe," he said, giving the word a teasing lilt.

Jon kissed him again. "I'll take it."

Martin laughed against his mouth, the sound muffled between them, and let the moment stretch on in a swell of fondness; then: "Oh- oh,  _ christ!" _ he said, pulling back from the kiss with a sudden jolt. "I'm not used to having other people around, where's-"

"Right here."

He glanced over. Basira was leaning against a nearby tree, shadow-dappled as she burnished the barrel of her gun with a scrap of cloth.

She glanced over at them with one eyebrow raised. "You two done, or am I going to have to sit through a full romance novel before we can get going again?"

"Sorry," Jon said. He sounded embarrassed. "We've, uh- we've had a lot of time alone, recently."

Basira pushed off from her tree, giving a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, well, now you've got a third wheel. Get used to it."

"Thank- um." Martin coughed. He could feel his face flaming. "Thanks for waiting for us?"

"Don't get used to it," she said, turning to face the forest.

Martin's eyebrows shot up, then rose further when he heard Jon's soft chuckle next to him.  _ Right, _ he remembered. That was Basira's teasing tone. Christ, it'd been a long time since they'd talked.

"We've missed you too, Basira," Jon said, smile audible in his voice.

She flipped him off over her shoulder, and Martin laughed, and grabbed Jon's hand, and followed her into the trees.

**Author's Note:**

> Basira: Can we move on, please?
> 
> Jon and Martin, snogging behind a tree: Sorry, this cutscene cannot be skipped.


End file.
